A Quote by Stan Van Gundy

I'm pretty sure that every player who's ever played for me doesn't hate me. Now, we'd have to do a survey, but I've coached a lot of guys, and I'm pretty sure there's one or two that don't hate me. I don't know that any liked me. But I'm pretty sure there's one or two who don't hate me.
I'm pretty sure I don't have any songs that are about how much I love someone. They're all either about, like, 'I hate you,' or 'You make me hate me.'
Jump way back to one time, Evie and me did this fashion shoot in a junk yard, in a slaughterhouse, in a mortuary. We'd go anywhere to look good by comparison, and what I realize is mostly what I hate about Evie is the fact that she's so vain and stupid and needy. But what I hate most is how she's just like me. What I really hate is me so I hate pretty much everybody.
I can guard guys my size and bigger, because, typically, I'm stronger than them, but sometimes guys get by me on the wing. It's not as big a deal because I can recover pretty well and I'll block their shot at the rim, but I hate when guys go past me on the wing. I hate that.
I am sure it does not hurt that Mitt Romney is my dad. I'm sure it's opened a lot of doors for me. But I think I've been pretty effective once I've gotten through the door at doing a pretty good job.
Love me or hate me, it's one or the other. Always has been. Hate my game, my swagger. Hate my fadeaway, my hunger. Hate that I'm a veteran. A champion. Hate that. Hate it with all your heart. And hate that I'm loved, for the exact same reasons.
I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.
My whole thing is feel free to hate me - I so don't care if you hate me, but meet me, and listen to my record, and know me before you hate me.
I won't telephone him. I'll never telephone him again as long as I live. He'll rot in hell, before I'll call him up. You don't have to give me strength, God; I have it myself. If he wanted me, he could get me. He knows where I am. He knows I'm waiting here. He's so sure of me, so sure. I wonder why they hate you, as soon as they are sure of you.
You can love me or hate me and disagree with me, but you sure as hell know where I stand.
Go away. I hate everyone right now, and I'm pretty sure that includes you.
I hate a stupid man who can't talk to me, and I hate a clever man who talks me down. I don’t like a man who is too lazy to make any effort to shine; but I particularly dislike the man who is always striving for effect. I abominate a humble man, but yet I love to perceive that a man acknowledges the superiority of my sex, and youth and all that kind of thing. . . A man who would tell me that I am pretty, unless he is over seventy, ought to be kicked out of the room. But a man who can't show me that he thinks me so without saying a word about it, is a lout.
You can hate me for being a woman, you can hate me for being smart, you can hate me for being funny, but you hate me because I am doing something you could never do. End of story.
No one could ever hate me as much as I hate myself, okay? So any mean thing someone's gonna think of to say about me, I've already said to me, about me, probably in the last half hour!
I wouldn't be honest if I told you that in some moment of my life I had a lot of rage - probably hate - I'm not sure of hate, but rage. But you know what happens is that then you realize you cannot do to others what you think nobody has to do to anybody. Life is important for me and not any kind of life, quality too of life.
Pretty That's what I am, I guess. I mean, people have been telling me that's what I am since I was two. Maybe younger. Pretty as a picture. (Who wants to be a cliché?) Pretty as an angel. (Can you see them?) Pretty as a butterfly. (But isn't that really just a glam bug?) Cliché, invisible, or insectlike, I grew up knowing I was pretty and believing everything good about me had to do with how I looked. The mirror was my best friend. Until it started telling me I wasn't really pretty enough.
For me, every show that's about teachers - and there's been a number of them - they're like misfits who hate the kids and don't want to be there and hate their jobs. For me, having crazy parents, my teachers were the sane people who raised me, and they liked being there.
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